


Return of the Forbidden Fruit

by Epivet



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley Watches Aziraphale Eat (Good Omens), Fluff, Forbidden Fruit, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24476302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epivet/pseuds/Epivet
Summary: It's 6000 years after Crowley introduced Aziraphale to the Forbidden Fruit, and the demon still hasn't recovered.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42
Collections: Forbidden Fruit, Promptposal





	Return of the Forbidden Fruit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pyracantha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyracantha/gifts).



> My Junior Pomptposal for my fellow Austen enthusiast, the lovely Pyracantha, who said she's into soft/domestic with a little spice or bicker flirting. Hopefully I hit all those notes here!
> 
> Accompanying playlist at  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2zGih9aVIAoFgrt8gO5t2S?si=yp01epjOT0KQliQvRIyq4g  
> (Unfortunately, Lionel Richie doesn't appear to be on Spotify)

_But no gay change revolving seasons bring,_

_To call forth Pleasure from the soul of Pain,_

_Bid syren Hope resume her long lost part,_

_And chase the vulture Care, that feeds upon the heart. [1]_

Very little could entice Aziraphale from a book of poetry while settled in the cottage’s meticulously miracled library. Whatever Crowley was removing from the oven was just such a temptation. Aziraphale entered the kitchen nose-first and inhaled deeply.

“Oh, that smells heavenly, dear!” 

“I assume you mean devilishly tempting?” Crowley smirked as he turned from the oven and set the loaf pan on a trivet. He swatted away the angel’s hand before scolding, “You never let it cool. You said you had a craving for bananas so I made banana bread.”

“I didn’t know we had bananas.”

“We didn’t. Picked them up with the marketing this morning.” Crowley glanced at the book Aziraphale had set down on the counter while attempting a second sneak attack on the loaf. Crowley gently grabbed his wrist with a smile. “Charlotte Turner Smith. Still working your way through all the South Downs–inspired poetry of the last few hundred years?”

Aziraphale twisted his wrist to slip Crowley’s grasp and then lift the demon’s hand to his lips. “I thought it a rather lovely housewarming activity, dearest.”

“I can think of a few others,” responded Crowley before pulling Aziraphale in for a proper snog.

***

A cacophony of yells, shrieks, and laughter bounced across the auditorium as Aziraphale and Crowley joined the exiting crowd.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect so many children. Not quite the romantic outing I had intended,” Aziraphale offered apologetically as a gaggle of Prebendalians swarmed past them, dashing from the star theatre to the learning centre.

“The planetarium was a clever idea, angel. And watching the mischief of schoolchildren run amok warms a demon’s heart,” laughed Crowley. Seeing Aziraphale’s pout remain fixed, he added “Don’t make that face at me. Let’s hop in the Bentley and pop down to Rainbows. I’m sure a Banoffee Bliss will improve your mood.”

Aziraphale pretended to deliberate before smiling radiantly. “Well, if you insist. Should I get it with the waffles or the pancakes?”

***

The fading sunset gave the sky a final coral and scarlet embrace. A gentle evening breeze whistled past the cottage’s open windows and kissed the dancing flames of the candles.

As he reached across the table to top off Crowley’s wine glass, Aziraphale hummed contentedly. “That was scrumptious, my dear. You spoil me so.”

“Nothing special, angel. Fresh pasta’s not hard, and only the basil is from the garden. Just wait till the tomatoes come in. Which will be soon if they know what’s good for them,” Crowley called out toward the garden. He winked at Aziraphale and stood. “Give me a minute and I’ll finish dessert.”

Moments later, a spire of flame leapt from Crowley’s pan as Aziraphale entered the kitchen with their dinner plates. “Oh, good Lord. You can take the demon out of the fire…”

“If you don’t want the Bananas Foster and crêpes, we can just head to bed, angel.”

“Well, let’s not be hasty,” conceded Aziraphale.

***

The morning sun poured into the breakfast nook as Aziraphale slid in, setting down a winged mug of cocoa next to Crowley’s coffee.

“Good morning, my dear. Finally awake?”

“Ask me after the coffee. Of all the creatures on earth, I had to love a perpetual early bird,” grumbled Crowley.

“I trust you, uh, slept well.” Aziraphale looked away as he casually moved his hand toward the fruit bowl on the table. He nodded toward the back of the cottage. “Are you planning on working on the garden today?”

Aziraphale cautiously gripped the one banana left after the Bananas Foster. In a flash, Crowley pinned his hand to the table.

“Ah ha! You _are_ keeping these from me!” Aziraphale huffed indignantly. “I told you I had a craving for bananas and you’ve deliberately kept me from them. The bread and the Bliss and the crêpes were all lovely, but why on earth won’t you let me simply have a banana?”

“Well, forgive me for having a little post traumatic stress from the first time. “ Crowley released Aziraphale’s hand and began pacing the short distance by the nook. “You do remember you gave me a concussion? Bloody nearly discorporated me! Oh, gosh, mister demon, am I licking this right?”

“Hmph. It’s not like I had any idea of the carnal implications,” countered Aziraphale as he slowly began to peel the fruit.

“Don’t you dare!”

“What? Do this?” Aziraphale licked the banana and with a devilish glint in his eye he slowly opened his mouth to take a very generous bite.

“That’s it, angel.” Crowley tugged Aziraphale’s elbow till he stood and then pulled him toward the back of the cottage. “If you aren’t going to sleep in it, we’ll put the bed to other use.”

“You do realize you’re simply rewarding my offending behavior, don’t you?” Aziraphale observed primly.

“Shaddup,” whispered Crowley as he crowded the angel against the wall and shut him up quite soundly.

The bed would have to wait yet another day to be of use.

[1] **SONNET XLII.** **_Composed during a Walk on the Downs, Nov._ ** **1787.** Charlotte Turner Smith


End file.
